


Hand to hand

by lola381pce



Series: Imagine Clint Coulson Prompts [11]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternative Universe - SHIELD Academy, BAMF Clint Barton, BAMF Phil Coulson, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, M/M, Ogling, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr: imagineclintcoulson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 21:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11365662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lola381pce/pseuds/lola381pce
Summary: For an anonymous Imagine Clint Coulson prompt:"AU. Imagine Phil and Clint went to SHIELD Academy together, but Clint at Operations Academy while Phil at Communications Academy, and their first meeting at hand to hand combat class."Thanks for the prompt, anonymous - hope you enjoy the fill :)





	Hand to hand

**Author's Note:**

> We are always accepting new prompts at our tumblr account, so feel free to drop by with a little headcanon or ask.

Clint didn’t mind admitting he was pretty much ogling the guy in the suit across from him. He was a few years older than Clint, maybe twenty-five or twenty-six, and had a lot going for him, and that was before he got his clothes off. He wondered what he’d be like when he _was_ out of them. They’re in the gym changing room getting ready for a hand-to-hand combat class; not for any smutty porno reasons. Ha! He wishes!

It wasn’t the first time Clint had noticed him. He remembered somebody saying he was from Communications. Probably some sort of analyst or languages guy then, but he looked like an accountant or lawyer the way he dressed. His suits weren’t expensive (probably… like Clint would know) and most likely off the rack but he made them look good. Really good.

They didn’t have classes together as such - Clint was in Operations, a different division of SHIELD Academy - however they passed each other in the corridors now and again, and the suit sat in on the occasional Ops tactical class taking notes and making sketches. Actually from what Clint could see, incredibly detailed plans of the stuff that was being discussed, all freehand. He apparently had skills and that was definitely kinda hot.

That’s not to say Clint didn’t pay attention to what’s going on. He did… kinda, but his input during these classes is less academically beneficial and more a creative challenge for his ninja stealth skills which generally involved the use of the tube of his pen as a blowgun trying to hit his classmates with soggy paper balls without being caught. Well, he never claimed to be an adult. Just The World’s Greatest Marksman.

The suit had been watching him on one occasion before Clint realised, but instead of calling him on it, which would have been a dick move, the corner of his mouth had turned up the tiniest bit before he’d gone back to his notes or sketches or whatever he was doing. Clint appreciated that. Appreciated quite a lot about him in fact. Way out of his league though more’s the pity.

And whoa! Back to the present! Clint didn’t expect him to be hiding any of _that_ under his suit.

A _very_ tidy ass in a pair of black boxer briefs; wide shoulders peppered with very lickable freckles; and obscenely sexy forearms. Well hellooo daddy! Oh and icing on the cake alert; he had a broad, sexy, hairy chest that had a thin trail of hair leading down his stomach to the promised land that waited below those briefs. Sadly, it’s now about to be covered up with a black SHIELD t-shirt. Aww, tee, no!

Clint finally dropped his gaze before he was caught in his ogling. Just in time too. The suit finished dressing and headed past him on the way to the gym. He’d only had a minute or so to take in as much as he could and congratulated himself for all the good things he’d observed. But then he’s Hawkeye. He sees everything. And he sees better from a distance.

He quickly stripped out of his own clothes to change into his standard SHIELD issue sweatpants and t-shirt. If the suit hadn’t already left for the hall he’d have taken more time undressing. He didn’t really considered himself a vain person (too much of a trainwreck to be honest) and he was a little on the skinny side, still growing into his body and all, but he was working hard at keeping himself in good shape and it was beginning to show. He knew he had to in his line of work especially with a recurve bow as part of his weapons cache, but it would have been nice to return the half-naked favour. You know. Just in case the suit might be interested. Unlikely but a guy could dream right? He sighed and headed outside.

“Clint,” he offered by way of a greeting as they stood together on the mats listening to the instructor.

“Blowgun,” the suit responded. What now?

“Huh?”

“In the tactical class a few weeks ago. You were using your pen as a blowgun. You have a really good aim by the way. Wait. Clint? As in Barton? Hawkeye?”

Clint was taken aback. He knew who he was. The suit, still didn’t have his name dammit, looked kinda impressed too which made Clint preen a bit. Okay, he could be a _little_ vain now and again.

“Something to say, Coulson?” the instructor barked. Ex-army with a voice like he chewed rocks into gravel in his spare time.

“No sir,” Coulson replied, snapping to attention, the tips of his ears going a delightful shade of red.

“Then why don’t you step up and we can see what you’ve learned since the last time you were here.”

“Yessir.”

Aww cute, thought Clint with a smirk. He must come here to get his ass handed to him by the Ops guys on occasion. Wait now, Coulson? Phil Coulson? He was sure that was the name of SHIELD Director Fury’s protégé he was rumoured to have recruited straight from high school. Shit! He should have graduated by now, shouldn’t he? What’s he been doing for the last, what…six years for him still to be at the Academy?

“And it appears we’ve found you a partner. You too, Barton, seeing you apparently need something to keep your mind occupied.”

Clint felt his own blush spreading across his face. Fuck! Ah well. At least this wasn’t going to last long. He’d been fighting hard and dirty since he was a kid; more so in the circus. Needless to say, he’d put Comms Coulson flat on his back (hehe… he wished) pretty sharpish but he’d try to be gentle with him since it was their first time.

“Seriously, sir?” Clint sassed with a cocky grin. “I don’t wanna hurt the old guy.”

Coulson raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth pulling up in an amused half-smile at Clint’s words. Clint felt a slow heat beginning low in his belly at Coulson’s eyes on his. That wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all. So long as it stopped at his belly he might not embarrass himself with an awkward display of wood.

The instructor and Coulson exchanged looks and Coulson said in the driest possible tone, “I’ll try not let my advanced age slow me down.”

“Enough dancing, assholes. This is a hand-to-hand combat class not fucking ballroom lessons.”

And with that the instructor casually tossed Clint a knife and told him to attack while Coulson disarmed him. Clint gulped. Apparently they weren’t messing around. Kinda harsh for Comms guy though.

He opened his mouth to ask if Coulson was ready and suddenly he was staring up at the ceiling from the floor looking at the suit who was somehow holding the knife with a big shit-eating smirk on his face. Well now. That didn’t seem right.

After a second of trying to understand what went wrong, Clint pushed himself back onto his feet with a backflip. Confused but not offended, he flashed another cocky grin.

“Cute! Wanna try that one again?”

Coulson grinned back and handed him the knife. Clint came at him this time, feigning successfully a couple of times, but within a minute or so, Coulson had him on the ground a second time. Fuck! For an analyst he was pretty good at this shit. Maybe martial arts was a hobby or something.

However the third time, when Coulson took him down with a move that had him pushing off Clint’s thigh and ending up with his own thighs wrapped around Clint’s neck in a choke hold (and wasn’t that the stuff of fantasy) Clint suspected there was more to the “Comms guy” than he first thought. A fact that was confirmed by the instructor as they got up off the mats.

“Well Coulson, it seems that Fury was right. Your time in the Rangers taught you something after all. You two take a time out. Barnes, Jones - you’re up.”

Coulson ducked his head and gave Clint a sideways glance, the half-smile still on his face. He shrugged apologetically and said, “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

Clint rubbed the back of his neck in a self-conscious gesture. Rangers? Well fuck!

“I guess I asked for it with the “old guy” comment. Maybe uh… you could teach me that last move sometime,” he said, not-so-subtly licking his lips.

“Sure,” Coulson agreed, his eyes darkening slightly. “Be my pleasure.”

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't said this for a while but feel free to comment on this or any of my works; it's good to know what you like (or not) :)  
> Thanks for taking the time to read - hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
